Before I Go: A dark and tense psychological crime thriller. by Marie Reyes (the false prince series txt) 📗

“I’ve felt better. The sunglasses are helping. Tell me, why is everything so damned bright? I need to be in a dark room somewhere.”

“You and me both.” He followed her lead and took his shades from his pocket. He only had a hint of a hangover, but at least they could hide the dark circles under his eyes. “We can be those kinds of assholes who wear sunglasses indoors.”

“So where do we get this bus from then?”

“I forked out for a private car and hotel pickup. No way am I walking anywhere today. It was hard enough getting out of bed.”

“Welcome to my life.” He said, seriously at first, but then forced out a laugh. No need to let her know how hard it was for him getting out of bed most mornings.

“Hola.” An older looking man with white facial hair approached them. “Josie?”

“That’s us.” She went to grab her bag.

“Here, let me.” He hoisted up her bag and slung it over one shoulder.

“I can carry my own bag,” she offered, but he could tell from the slight hunch she had developed since the night before that she might just be saying that for show.

“Come on, you’re sporting the hangover from hell. Don’t try to be a hero.”

“Okay, if you put it that way.”

The driver approached them and took both bags off Michael without saying a word.

“There goes my act of chivalry.” They followed the driver out the front doors and tried to match his fast pace. Even with his age and carrying two bags, he was more spritely than them. He guided them to a six-seater and put their bags in the trunk as they got inside.

“So how far is this place anyhow?”

“It’s about a three-hour drive, maybe.”

The engine started up and the driver put the radio and air-con on. As the car started moving, Josie lurched forward in her seat and groaned.

“You okay?”

“I feel like shit.”

“I’d hate to say I told you so.”

“Then don’t.”

“Tell me more about this place,” he said, trying to distract her.

“Well, it’s a village, or a small town. Close to the Belize border. A little of the beaten path, not like Tulum or Cancún. I’ve done some research. It has smaller Mayan ruins. Not a lot of tourists so better for exploring if you want some solitude I guess. There’s a load of cenotes as well. You could swim in one all to yourself.”

“Hm. I wouldn’t fancy getting stuck in an underwater cave on my own.”  He noticed her leaning her head against the glass with a pained look on her face. “Have this.” He pulled a banana from his daypack. “Potassium, that’s supposed to be good for hangovers, right?” They reached the highway and Michael watched the jungle pass by as Josie slept with her head propped up against the window.

***

In and out of consciousness, Michael woke up when the car finally stopped in front of Hotel Mono Loco. A plain concrete building with a flash of green and blue paint from the logo painted on the front. Green leaves, and a badly painted monkey with one eye a lot bigger than the other. Josie was now wide awake and got out of her side of the car. It was jarring going from the lull of sleep, into the middle of some village he had never seen before. All the other buildings were small except the hotel and a nearby convenience store.  A vendor sold food from their cart on the side of the road, and there were no other tourists he could see on the street. He grabbed the bags whilst Josie tipped the driver and then they headed inside. The hotel was empty except for one middle-aged traveler sat on a tattered red couch reading a magazine at the table. He felt self-conscious walking in as it was so quiet their footsteps echoed throughout the building. The front desk was unmanned, and they waited with their bags, desperate to offload their stuff. Josie picked up a card for a taxi company from the desk and looked at it with suspicion. He tried to imagine what had been running through her sister’s mind when she was trapped in that taxi, alone. Worst-case scenarios running through her head—worst-case scenarios that came true. His mind couldn’t help but imagine her dead in a ditch somewhere, and the thought that Josie probably also imagined these things made him feel sick.

There was some movement in the back room and a man that looked to be in his forties emerged from the office with a fine layer of sweat on his forehead. He looked surprised to see them.

“Los siento. I didn’t hear you there.” He sat down on a wheeled chair and scooted over to a huge beige computer that looked like it was from the late eighties and input something on the keyboard as a clunky fan droned in the background.

“Passportes por favor.”

“Oh, yeah.” Michael rummaged in his pocket.

“I am Julio. Anything you need, you ask.” He took Josie’s passport, opened it up at the photo page and held it up in front of him comparing the two. “Do I know you? You look familiar.”

“No. I’ve never been here before.” She looked confused for a brief second, and then her eyes lit up and she reached into her handbag, pulling out a photograph folded in half. She opened it and held it out to him. “Have you seen this girl at all? It may have been a long time ago now.” She looked at him expectantly.

He glanced at the photo. “I don’t know. I see a lot of tourists. Maybe.”

Michael glanced over at the photo and couldn’t believe how similar Josie and her sister were. Looking at the photo, it was like seeing into the future. It was exactly how he could imagine Josie looking if she were a few years older.

“Maybe. So you could have? Think.” She pushed.

“I don’t remember. Lots of beautiful girls come and go, you